


Biweekly Log 03

by stephanericher



Series: Drabbles [6]
Category: Bleach, Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball, Tokyo Ghoul, 弱虫ペダル | Yowamushi Pedal, 残響のテロル | Zankyou no Terror | Terror in Resonance
Genre: F/M, Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-27
Updated: 2014-09-27
Packaged: 2018-04-20 19:51:07
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,070
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4800143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stephanericher/pseuds/stephanericher
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>20 Drabbles published 9/14/14-9/27/14</p>
            </blockquote>





	Biweekly Log 03

**Author's Note:**

> #4 was published when I hadn't realized that Riko's mother was still in the picture

1\. Fever (Haizaki Shougo/Midorima Shintarou)

Sometimes, Haizaki thinks, Shintarou is like a fever—annoying, exhausting, uncomfortable, a general pain in the ass. But fevers aren’t without their benefits—like a built in excuse to play hooky, even if he feels like crap and doesn’t get to properly enjoy the time off. And Shintarou, even with his stupid prim smug face and good grades and medical school aspirations and spare time in the library, is actually pretty good in the sack and he’s fun to argue with (he strikes hard back at Haizaki but never where it really, truly hurts, at the edges and almost daring him to peel back his own scabs) and mess with and even sleep next to. So maybe he’s a little better than a fever—and he’s lasted too damn long without killing Haizaki, so maybe the analogy doesn’t work at all. But Haizaki’s never been a poet.

* * *

2\. Horizon (Shibazaki Kenjirou/Hamura)

The horizon for them is not bare—well, perhaps it is, but whatever is or is not on it is shrouded by mist, masking everything in a quiet mystery (including the direction of the horizon itself), whiting out sights and dampening sound. It’s not frightening (not any more so than many cases he’s had to solve, and in terms of what Shibazaki’s had to do perhaps it’s even lower on the scale) but it’s tense sometimes, the way Shibazaki holds his jaw when they’re eating dinner or Hamura’s posture when they’re walking down the street together or the way they both measure their words. Things only become clearer when they grip each other’s hands and move forward with the resolve that this is the right direction—and it usually is.  

* * *

3\. Blood (Imayoshi Shouichi/Furuhashi Koujirou)

There’s something about the placid look on Furuhashi’s face that makes Imayoshi’s blood race, heart pumping in his ears and blood flowing to all sorts of interesting places—Furuhashi probably knows this, but there’s nothing he’s going to gain from hiding it anyway. Rather, it gets better when Furuhashi squeezes his hands around Imayoshi’s wrists like handcuffs Imayoshi would rather not unlock (they can get off with just the friction between their groins and thighs and the malevolent expressions meeting in a kiss). There’s no real danger in that, or is there? Imayoshi can’t decide which way would please him better so he lets it hang in the middle and Furuhashi, too, doesn’t leave any indication—and that’s why Imayoshi likes him (or at least one of the reasons).

* * *

4\. Difficult (Aida Kagetora)

It’s still difficult some days, waking up alone with the double bed all to himself—she had been tiny but filled up her side with blankets and extra pillows and always moved around during the night. There’s no one to read the paper to Riko; he’d do it but she snatches it away and reads it herself because he’s no substitute. He fries eggs for both of them but only makes enough coffee for himself; Riko drinks water from a tall glass and her wet fingers smudge the edges of the newspaper ink. It is impossible to fill the blank spaces she left behind, at least with anything remotely resembling her—the fillings right now are awkward placeholders that will last until they’re healed enough to look at them properly without cringing and fill them up piece by piece. They might be far away now but he is sure that day will come.

* * *

 

5\. Tree (Kurosaki Isshin/Kurosaki Masaki)

He asks her to marry him properly on a bench under her favorite tree in the park, one of the first things she’d showed him in this town. The branches are bare and the bark is peeling and the wind is whipping at their faces and she knows that by this point it’s a formality (and she says as much in different words) but she accepts, smile twitching at her lips.

* * *

 

6\. Illness (Kagami Taiga/Takao Kazunari)

Kagami’s starting to feel kind of bad for yelling at Midorima the way he did, but on the other hand it’s probably worth it if he ends up cutting Takao some slack for it. He’d noticed the way Takao had been tired earlier and earlier in the day, leaning on the counter and staring into space and falling asleep in his lap, (not to mention the work piling up and the extra hours of basketball practice) but to think that it would make him sick—Takao stirs in his sleep and Kagami squeezes his hand tighter. Damn it. And as much as Midorima makes Takao cart him everywhere in that stupid rickshaw and help him with those lucky items he knows better than to jeopardize Takao’s health. Even if he pretends they’re not close friends he can use the basketball team as a built-in excuse and from all accounts he’s very conscious of that sort of thing. The main reason Kagami yelled at him was because he was (and is) mad at himself about this—mad at himself for taking up so much of Takao’s time, for wanting more of it, for not taking care of him as well as he should have. What kind of boyfriend does this make him? A shitty one, probably.

“Tai-chan?”

Takao’s eyes flutter open halfway and he tightens his own grip on Kagami’s hand.

“Do you need anything? Water? More blankets?”

“No…lie with me?”

Kagami blinks. “But—”

“I’m not contagious,” Takao says, pulling weakly at Kagami’s hand. “Stop blaming yourself and get in. I’ll sleep better like that.”

Damn. How can he see Kagami’s feelings even now when he’s fever-ridden and exhausted? And how can he dismiss his worries like that? How can he not blame him? He sits on the edge of the bed and lets go of Takao’s hand to get himself properly situated under the covers. It’s hot, but manageable, and Takao snuggling up to him mitigates the discomfort a lot. Takao positions himself in the crook of Kagami’s shoulder and closes his eyes again; his breathing deepens almost instantaneously.

When Kagami bends his head to kiss Takao’s forehead it’s cooler.

* * *

 

7\. Pain (Yomo Renji/Kaneki Ken)

Yomo’s pain isn’t quite so acute as it once was, now a dull throb in the back of his throat or the flat of his wrist or the small of his back when he lets it creep up—it stabs him sometimes like it’s fresh, like it’s all happening all over again, when Kaneki gives him that wild-eyed look and when he bites back a retort, so angry and bitter but resolute, positive that this is the right thing to do—it’s always been in him, festering for a long time without reaching the point where it became anything (and it takes one to know one).

And yet this rage is more beautiful and terrible than Yomo’s was; he feels almost guilty for the comparison as he lets himself be drawn in; as Kaneki’s eyes flicker up at his and he accepts each touch Yomo only falls further, touches more rashly, goes farther, until Kaneki pulls him down and kisses him (he’s gotten better in the few months since they’ve become whatever they are but still puts a little too much force behind it, as if he thinks that’s what Yomo wants and he’s going to do it that way and Yomo can’t say anything about it, can’t undermine the bits of earnestness that are still there inside of him that seem like more than bits sometimes, like glowing veins that illuminate his entire being).

* * *

 

8\. Along the Lines (Aomine Daiki/Midorima Shintarou)

Midorima’s so fucking beautiful despite his best efforts to cover it up in a nerdy costume. It worked for a while, but then somewhere along the line it stopped and Aomine hasn’t been able to pretend it matters ever since then. That discerning frown of his is actually kind of hot; it looks great (anything does though) with the thick eyelashes that throw his face in shadow like vines suspended by a fence, and Aomine could trace over the planes of his torso, once flat and smooth but now with muscle in all the right places, for quite a while before he’d get tired of it—if he would. And he’s obviously more than the combination of these parts and everything else, something Aomine can’t find the words to describe and won’t look for them because he wants to keep the sensation of it (whatever it is) to himself for now.

* * *

 

9\. Flat Tire (Kanzaki Miki/Sugimoto Terufumi)

She teaches him one day how to reinflate a tire, the most efficient and clean way to do it—he says he knows how but she tells him to please let her do it anyway and he can’t help but give in (of course, he doesn’t exactly know the textbook way of doing it but of course he’d have figured it out in no time if he was given the pump). Her hands are quick and sure and steady and by the time she finishes he realizes that he hasn’t paid attention to her method at all.

She doesn’t get mad when he can’t inflate the second tire, places her hands on his and guides him and maybe there’s something to needing to be helped, maybe it’s okay; maybe—no, definitely—she understands. Her warm smile as he gets back on sticks in his mind, and he doesn’t even think to call out to Aoyagi and Naruko as they pass him again.

* * *

 

10\. Hold (Haizaki Shougo/Kagami Taiga)

Taiga’s had experience with people like Shougo, people who withhold information and won’t go near certain subjects and mask pain and bitterness with something more palatable. And yet he can’t really deal with Shougo; persistence and patience and confronting the issues do nothing but push him away farther, but he keeps going anyway because he keeps thinking it can’t get all that much worse and at least he’s trying and he just wants to get through to Shougo, climb those slippery walls or maybe leap over them but now, when it’s so much more important, his legs are failing him. And maybe this is what people sing in melodramatic songs with the swell of guitars and violins behind them about love being stupid and insane (or maybe he was just stupid and insane to begin with) but what the fuck does it matter?

And somehow his last-ditch efforts work (not that he would have been able to give Shougo up despite his promises to himself) and he finds himself holding Shougo close to him whispering things he will resent despite needing, how much he loves him and wants him and needs him into the back of Shougo’s neck and Shougo’s grip around his arms tightening and his body tensing (but he makes no sound).

* * *

 

11\. End of the World (Five, Twelve)

She had asked him if he was going to destroy everything—he didn’t give her a real answer, because the one who destroys things isn’t him, really. It’s not Nine, either; it’s Five who has the courage and bravado (although those words are perhaps too congratulatory, but they’re the closest he has right now) to pull the trigger and take care of things, to demolish without looking back. They are always looking back, rebuilding things in their heads because they can’t in reality, wishing for different paths, ones with less destruction—and yet they don’t brake or switch their own cart to the other track, resigned in the most basic sort of way to their own fate. He and Nine will do what they can, but it is Five who will bring about the end of the world.

* * *

 

12\. Humiliating (Himuro Tatsuya/Alexandra Garcia)

Confessing is humiliating but he’s stretched so thin he does it anyway; he knows she knows and she’s always known but this has always lain between them like a stream too deep to properly cross with a current they can’t swim through—but it seems better at this point to drown himself. As long as they don’t talk about it the swell will only grow and maybe it will get them both and maybe it will destroy everything they’ve built up.

“I know,” she says, low in her throat.

He refuses to turn and run this time, accepts her arms around his waist and her hand in his hair.

“But I can’t. I’m sorry.”

Neither of them lets go for a few more minutes.

* * *

 

13\. Glitter (Uta/Yomo Renji)

Uta’s glass glitters in the light as he brings it up to his lips; the movements of his slim wrists are almost intoxicating in and of themselves and Renji can’t look away. It’s like his eyes are being dragged by an invisible rope attached to the heel of Uta’s hand. Uta puts the glass down and bites back a grin, leaning forward on the table.

“Oh?”

Renji swallows, attempting to look disinterested—it worked a hell of a lot better when he had bangs to hide behind. Uta leans back and takes another sip, lifting the glass much slower this time (damn him). He seems to be satisfied with this much for now, though.

* * *

 

14\. Fire (Kise Ryouta/Aida Kagetora)

Kagetora is like a slow-burning fire, maybe on a charcoal grill like the one he cooks on, sleeves rolled up and grim sort of determination on his face like the one he gets when he’s doing a particularly tough workout—he’s warm and sometimes his temper flares but normally he’s steady, the kind of person that Ryouta would lean on if he particularly liked leaning on people. He won’t catch Ryouta up and consume him, either; he waits for Ryouta to come to him (well, most of the time; sometimes he gets impatient but those times Ryouta really doesn’t mind).

* * *

 

15\. Bridge (Twelve/Nine)

He dreams sometimes of a particular bridge, of standing on it with Twelve, of Twelve looking at him and that horrible smile spreading across his face—and then he feels Twelve’;s arms on his back but it’s not as if he’s about to hold him or push soft patterns against him and kiss his neck. And then he falls; the guardrail vanishes and he is hurtling down toward the river and he feels as if his eardrums are about to pop. He wakes to silence, to Twelve sleeping normally, and those are the dreams—not the ear-shattering flashbacks—that shake him up the most, that leave him completely unable to fall asleep again for the rest of the night.

* * *

 

16\. Spiral (Kagami Taiga/Momoi Satsuki)

She keeps talking about cutting her hair, the long pink strands that weave their way around both of their wrists at night in spirals and tangling them together, even when she pulls her hair back (which, she explains, is not very comfortable to sleep in). She never does it, though; whether it’s because she thinks longer hair makes up for her perceived faults in femininity or because she likes the way it looks or because she just says these things to gauge his reaction, he’s not sure. Either way it doesn’t matter all that much—he’s fine waking up tangled in her but he doesn’t need something physical to remind him of the bonds between them. But maybe she does.

* * *

 

17\. Everything (Ishida Ryuuken/Katagiri Kanae)

He never expected to love the way he has, hard and reckless and needy, never expected to have someone on his mind as much as she is, never expected to enjoy the taste of someone’s name on his tongue more than any other word, and yet here he is and there’s not a damn thing he can do about it. He’s very lucky that she feels the same, her feelings perhaps even deeper and more obvious like rivers creating canyons in her heart shaped like him. But even so it’s not a contest, and she is truly his everything.

* * *

 

18\. Mix (Nebuya Eikichi/Hanamiya Makoto)

Nebuya makes him mix CDs out of songs he pirated from the internet, old low-quality rap from people Hanamiya’s never heard of and current disposable pop hits and famous symphonies and that weird loud punk shit he loves and goes to concerts for, always trying to drag Hanamiya along. Hanamiya leaves the CDs in his car and whenever Nebuya asks he claims not to have listened to them.

Nebuya switches on the CD player when they’re driving on the highway one day and Hanamiya’s passing this guy so he can’t really focus on slapping Nebuya away unless he wants them both killed and the strains of a particular Dvorak movement fill the car and Nebuya starts to grin.

“Too many commercials on the radio,” Hanamiya snaps.

“Yeah,” says Nebuya cheerfully.

Maybe he should have crashed the car.

* * *

 

19\. Eyes (Uta/Yomo Renji)

“Why didn’t you like the glasses, though?” Uta says.

He studies his reflection; he actually does look better without the headband. Like this, glasses would be good, though, framed by his hair like the perfect curtains to the stage that is his face and glasses that don’t completely hide his eyes as the scenery to his eyes and nose and mouth, the stars of the show.

“Because,” Renji says (it sounds as if he’s struggling to let the words out). “You have nice eyes.”

Oh. Slowly a smile begins to work its way across Uta’s face; he glances at Renji’s reflection in the mirror—he’s hiding his features behind his hair. Oh.

* * *

 

20\. Heart (Sanada Naoto)

Sanada has never been a particularly sensitive man, especially not when it comes to basketball (funnily enough, Shirogane had told him that was his weakness as a coach). It helps to be strict, in his opinion, with these middle school kids, directionless and undisciplined as they are when left to their own devices. And yet, even though winning is the be-all and end-all (and always has been at Teikou) one look at the other team’s ace’s face and he freezes. It’s twisted in some kind of awful anguish, the way his mother looked when his father died but worse, reverberating deep within him. The clipboard slips from his hands and falls to the floor, but he barely notices because he’s trying to keep the tears from falling from his own eyes. Shit. No wonder Shirogane’s heart gave out.


End file.
